


Breath

by ravensurana



Series: Take Me By The Hand [4]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: ASL, Amaya knows what she wants, Deaf Character, F/F, I warned you this was slow burn, Janai is a useless lesbian, actually KSL, enemies to friends to ???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22557910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravensurana/pseuds/ravensurana
Summary: A poor night's sleep leaves Janai in turmoil, and Amaya offers a distraction.
Relationships: Amaya/Janai (The Dragon Prince)
Series: Take Me By The Hand [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620031
Comments: 9
Kudos: 141





	Breath

Janai jolts awake, gasping for breath.

Again.

Her thin blanket is tangled about her legs. Sweat chills her skin in the cold night air. For a long moment, she swears she can still hear screams echoing through the silent chamber around her.

She sits up, the motion too abrupt, sending her stomach roiling. Gulps air, shaking hand pressed to shuddering chest. She swallows the sour taste in her mouth. _A dream,_ she tells herself. The thought all but buried under an overwhelming deluge of emotion. _Not real. Not any more. Only in your mind._

Janai exhales hard. Pulls her knees to her chest and huddles around them. Her motions are disorganized. Shocky and disjointed.

She's not used to nightmares. To anything she can't face head-on with her blade and her will.

How long will she find herself trapped like this? Unable to control even her own mind?

Janai shivers, reaching instinctively for the spark in her core. Recoils. No. She's not willing to flare heat through her skin. To tap into the heat-being within her. Not now, while she's feeling so unstable.

Instead she tugs on the blanket, unwrapping it from her ankles. She shakes it out, willing the tremors in her arms to slow, now her initial panic has calmed. Wraps the thin cloth around her shoulders and leans back against the wall of the Dragon Queen's lair, exhaling long. She turns her head, weary and sluggish, to look up the stairs to the sliver of night sky, all that's visible beyond the Storm Spire's confines.

It's not yet lightening with the advent of dawn. Janai sighs, tipping her head back and squeezing her eyes shut. She needs to sleep. She shouldn’t be awake. Not now, not while the night still stretches long before her.

Not when her army will need her to lead them in the morning.

But no matter how many times she tells herself this, the thought of lying back down makes her stomach churn. Once burned, twice shy. Trying to fall asleep again hadn’t worked the first time. Or the second. Or the fifth.

Even now, she can still see the tainted Sunforge, as though the image has burned into her eyes.

Cloth rustles somewhere nearby, and Janai turns toward the sound, grateful for the distraction.

Amaya blinks sleepily up from her own pallet, just beyond Janai's. She cranes her neck, squinting toward that little sliver of night sky--and then her gaze catches on Janai's hunched form, pressed against the wall. Amaya's mouth twists, soft and knowing.

She pushes herself up, tugging her own blanket over her shoulders. "Can't sleep?" she asks, thumb under her chin, palm drawn down over her face.

Janai's head twitches from side to side. One hand slips out from under the blanket, and she pinches her first two fingers to her thumb, "No."

She isn't much inclined to elaborate, even were the lighting in the chamber bright enough for Amaya to read her lips. She knows, however, that Amaya won't pry. More than anyone else here, Amaya knows what Janai is going through.

Amaya looks out at the sky again, shakes her head. "Morning," she signs, though her left fingers inch only slowly over the horizon of her right palm, stopping before more than a hint of 'sunrise' is revealed.

Janai squints at the sign, momentarily confused, then nods slowly as the meaning sinks in. " _Early_ morning." Perhaps even "Too early." Her fist bobs in halfhearted agreement. 

She shivers, tugging the blanket closer around her. It would be so easy--too easy--to flood her skin with the comforting heat of sunfire. To burn off the chill of the high, drafty chamber. But Janai’s every sense is so much sharper then, her emotions more intense. The pain, the fear, the _grief_ are already almost enough to drown her.

Amaya lets out a long, deliberate breath that Janai half-expects to sparkle in the chill air. As she breathes in again--shoulders rising with the motion--Janai catches on, follows suit. Breathe in. Breathe out.

At last, something coiled tight within her begins to loosen. As though she’s finally realized that here, she’s safe.

Janai breathes deep, in and out. An aching sort of relief, new tears sliding down her cheeks. She can only imagine what she'd be going through now without someone like Amaya at her side. The hurt isn't less, precisely, with someone to share it. It's just... different. Easier to manage, in some way Janai can't define.

Then Amaya's gaze sharpens, and Janai feels herself tense in response. She turns her head, but sees nothing more than before: quiet chamber, sliver of sky.

Sliver of _lightening_ sky.

She turns back to Amaya in understanding, only to see Amaya's gaze fixed on her face with an intensity that makes Janai's heart race despite--everything. Amaya points to Janai. Points to herself. Brings up her fists, circling them in a sign Janai knows well by now.

"You. Me. Let's fight."

Janai blinks without comprehension, her thoughts feeling even more sluggish in comparison to Amaya's quick movements. A fight? Why would they fight, with whom--

Her mouth opens in an 'oh!', her fingers already spilling letters into the air. " _Spar?_ "

Amaya nods, hand bobbing, eager and sharp. Janai doesn't know half the signs Amaya uses next--one flat hand sweeping around the other, both arms spreading wide--but they're emphatic enough to get her meaning across. "When everything gets to be too much, a spar helps me relax."

Despite herself, Janai finds a smile tugging at her lips. She can picture a frustrated Amaya, back in her fortress at the Breach, stalking around looking for a sparring partner--and the wisest of her troops hiding until a suitable sacrifice is discovered.

The suggestion is a good one. Janai rolls her shoulders in anticipation--a chance to break herself out of her thoughts, to focus on nothing more than the ebb and flow of battle. The solid impact of a blocked punch, exertion finding warmth in the dim predawn air.

"Yes," she tells Amaya with the nod of a fist, and stands, smooths her blanket across her rumpled pallet and rolls it up against the wall. Reaches for the armor stacked beside it.

A warm hand on her shoulder, and Janai turns to see Amaya shaking her head. "No," she says, tipping her head toward the armor, gesturing down at herself. She's dressed only in her padded jacket and trousers--more protection than Janai's undershirt and leggings, but not by much.

Janai hesitates for a moment longer, then nods. This isn't training. This is something simpler, almost a meditation.

She motions Amaya into step beside her, bare stone chill under bare feet, and leads her out to the Spire's landing. The spaces up here are too hard, too cramped. They’ll want room to move, and Janai can think of nothing better than the wide, scorched plain below.

Janai's tiger is asleep in a nest of blankets against one wall of the tower, tails flicking idly across the stone as it snores. Janai smiles, stepping forward to scratch its jaw.

It opens its mouth in a massive yawn, tongue lolling, that tugs an answering yawn from Janai. She shivers, the air even colder out here than in the Spire proper. Gratefully accepts Amaya's aid in saddling the tiger.

Her movements are already stiff with cold by the time she clambers into the saddle. Amaya's hand is a welcome warmth in hers, and Amaya settles against Janai's back with a reassuring solidity that Janai finds herself leaning into, just a little.

The tiger shifts its weight, about to launch, and Janai sucks in a shocked, trembling breath as Amaya's arms slide around her stomach. Firm muscles are warm against her skin through the thin fabric of her shirt. Janai is abruptly awake, her senses feeling sharper than ever. She's intensely aware of Amaya's thighs pressing against her own hips, of Amaya's breath ghosting across the back of Janai's neck.

Amaya must feel her tense. The grip on Janai's stomach loosens, as though Amaya is worried she overstepped. Janai shakes her head, one hand still on the tiger's reins, and rests the other atop Amaya's. Her thumb brushes, soothing, across bare skin--Amaya has left off her gloves.

The tiger leaps.

Amaya's arms tighten around Janai again, the sensation all but lost in the rush of wind in Janai's hair, billowing through her shirt and biting at her bare toes. As always, the plummet sends a thrill through Janai. Amaya's laugh shivers against Janai's back, and she can feel Amaya lean to the side, balancing herself against Janai. Peering up at the spangled sky, down at the ground far beneath their dangling feet.

 _It's incredible, isn't it?_ Janai wants to say, and _This is nothing, I'll have to take you flying through the red-rock canyons sometime_ , and _I'm glad I get to share this with you_. But none of her words can reach Amaya here, in the soft blue light of too-early morning. All she can do is turn and catch Amaya's eye, flashing her an exhilarated grin that Amaya returns with equal fervor.

Somehow, that's enough.

The ride from the peak of the Spire to the camp far below is a short one. Too short, Janai thinks, directing the tiger to take a meandering path that loops about the Spire. The land looks vast and empty in the darkness, so far removed from the glowing sprawl of Lux Aurea that Janai can almost pretend this is all that matters. This moment, here and now, with the wind in her hair and the stars in her eyes and Amaya warm against her.

And still, the moment is over far too soon. The tiger circles to land, wings spread wide, on a patch of bare earth not far from the camp.

Amaya slides down first, leaving Janai shivering from the lingering heat of fingers trailing along her ribs. She shakes her head, lowers herself from the tiger onto the packed dirt. Scratches the tiger's chin, directs it to find someplace to curl up and resume its nap.

Then Janai turns to find Amaya standing before her, unfastening her jacket.

Amaya deliberately meets Janai’s eyes. Tugs the fabric slowly from her shoulders, dragging it down her arms with a tantalizing, languid motion. Janai is stunned into stillness, unable to look away as Amaya shakes the jacket. Dangles it from her fingers, lips curling into a smirk as she tosses the garment carelessly to the side.

Heat curls low in Janai’s belly. She’s intensely grateful for the mindless ease of battle instinct, bringing her fists up as Amaya drops into a fighting stance, low and steady--then holds out one hand. Beckons Janai with the same taunting gesture she used back in her fortress.

The first exchange is slow. Testing. Janai throws a punch. Amaya redirects with ease. Janai shifts her weight. Dodges the sweep of Amaya's leg. 

They both take a moment to re-center. This time Amaya moves first, strikes low and fast with a gut punch. Janai twists away, feet planted solidly in the dirt. Aims a high kick at Amaya, who ducks aside, her sharp exhale loud in the chill air.

Both combatants pull back, circle around. It's been too long since Janai had a chance to do something like this. No expectations, no ulterior motives. She strikes on the next step, jabbing toward Amaya's uninjured ribs. Bites back a smile when Amaya grabs her wrist to counter the blow. Janai hooks one foot around Amaya's ankle, tugs hard. She spins to the side when Amaya shifts her weight, her stance going wide.

Janai is breathing harder now, both from exertion and excitement. Few people can rival her in a good, hard spar--but she’s fought Amaya before. Felt her speed, her power. Facing Amaya, Janai doesn't have to pull punches.

Her eyes widen. She brings up one forearm to block a solid blow to her shoulder. The impact jars her to the bone, pushes her back a step. Amaya throws another punch. Janai has only an instant's warning--a flicker of motion in the corner of her eye--to twist from the path of a sweeping kick. She's off-balance now--but before Amaya can drop her, Janai lunges in and wraps her own leg around Amaya's. If she falls, so will Amaya.

Janai catches just a glimpse of Amaya's face. A thrill runs through her at Amaya's wide smile, a flash of teeth in the growing light.

Janai knows how Amaya moves now. Unencumbered by armor, no weapons to slow her down. When Amaya hesitates for a split second, Janai twists to regain her balance.

She finds herself pressed against Amaya's side. Amaya's warmth seeping through Janai's thin shirt. Amaya's pulse thrumming against her fingertips.

They both pull back at once, breathing hard. The glance they exchange is filled with a slow, scorching heat. Amaya wipes the back of one hand across her forehead. Settles her stance. Janai tosses her head, locs dancing against her shoulderblades. Beckons Amaya with eager anticipation.

Their next exchange is so fast that the moves are a blur. Each motion is both offense and defense. Janai revels in the sensation of surrendering herself to instinct. She's aware of every subtle shift in Amaya's muscles. Blows foreshadowed, blocked before they come close to landing.

And as they duck and dodge, a different instinct catches them both. Blocks linger for breathless moments. Grapples held for a beat past propriety. The brush of Amaya’s hair against Janai’s shoulder. The glimpse of Amaya’s exhilarated smile.

The play of muscles in Amaya's forearms distracts Janai. She misses a step, takes a blow to the shin. Their eyes meet and Amaya’s guard falters. Janai’s knuckles sting from the unexpected impact.

Janai’s breath rasps, harsh. She blocks another punch. She’s grateful for the cold air, soothing her searing throat. It’s a sharp contrast from the enticing heat of Amaya’s skin. She jabs, ducks, jabs again. Her muscles ache, the pleasant burn of well-spent exertion.

The first sliver of the sun breaks over the horizon.

Janai hesitates for a bare instant, gaze caught by the flash of brilliant gold.

Amaya takes full advantage of the distraction. She grapples Janai by the torso. Flashes a smirk. Hooks Janai’s leg with her own and tugs.

They both topple to the ground, landing in a tangle of limbs and a choking cloud of dust. Amaya cushions Janai’s head, a reminder that this battle is not in earnest.

Janai’s breath escapes her with the impact--or perhaps she’s just struck breathless by the sensation of Amaya’s solid weight atop her, hummingbird-rapid pulses mingling wherever they touch. By the heat of Amaya’s skin through the thin fabric of her shirt and leggings, soothing the aches deep in her bones, in her heart. By the gleam of Amaya’s eyes, the ardor in Amaya’s face, so close-- _so_ close--to her own, Amaya’s breath caressing her cheeks, her _lips_ , rich with promise--

Someone begins to applaud. Then another, and another.

Janai flinches, sharp, shocked from her dreamy trance. Abruptly aware of the hard ground against her back, the burning pain of a dozen new bruises. Her legs tangled with Amaya’s, their faces only inches apart.

The light in the sky. Their proximity to the camp.

Amaya still hasn’t moved. Janai flushes under her avid gaze, heart pounding, breath hitching. A heat wholly unlike that of exertion floods her body. _She can’t hear them,_ Janai realizes, desire mingling with panic. She shifts beneath Amaya, glancing deliberately to the side. To the dozen or more soldiers excitedly watching the fight, humans and elves standing together.

Amaya still doesn’t move. She follows Janai’s glance, then refocuses on Janai, her lips curling upward. _Who cares about an audience?_ she asks with a nonchalant eyebrow. The gentle motion of her thumb stroking along the back of Janai’s neck a desperate distraction.

Janai bites her lip, wishing she were bold enough to follow Amaya’s lead and forget their surroundings. But the moment has passed, miring Janai’s mind in a muddled tangle of responsibility and propriety and passion. Of half-forgotten horror and heart-deep longing.

 _I care,_ she says with pained eyes.

Amaya’s face softens. She nods at once, standing with a fluid grace Janai can’t hope to muster at the moment.

Janai takes Amaya’s proffered hand, soft despite the sword-calluses, and is tugged to her feet by a woman who now, before their troops, appears nothing but professional.

"Good fight," Amaya signs, her smile polite, though Janai can still see the affection in her gaze. "Thank you."

"You as well," Janai says, bowing before Amaya. Hoping her troops can’t see her trembling in the chill air, now that Amaya is no longer warm against her.

Amaya turns away, retrieves her jacket. Soldiers--human and elven--take this as a sign to approach the generals, with questions and grievances and scattered congratulations. Janai forces her attention toward her army, away from the roiling confusion of her emotions.

Yet still, in the back of her mind, Janai can’t stop ruminating on what just happened. What _could_ have happened, if she wasn’t so curst hesitant. So concerned with potential fallout, with her responsibilities, with perceptions.

She shouldn’t care about all that. She should be more like Amaya, throwing caution to the wind, pushing forward no matter the consequences. She always has before. She doesn’t know why it’s so different now--whether she’s truly so worried about what her people will think of her, or whether her hesitance stems from somewhere deeper.

 _Humans are monsters,_ whispers Khessa’s voice.

The Sunforge darkens once again in her mind’s eye, and her stomach churns.

But there is one thing Janai does know, as she watches Amaya moving among her own troops. She can’t keep dancing around this like she has been, vacillating between eagerness and reluctance.

One way or another, Janai needs to make a decision, and soon.

**Author's Note:**

> My beta reader apparently slammed her laptop shut when the troops started applauding and I count this as my greatest achievement yet.
> 
> Edited to the tune of 'Technicolour Beat' by Oh Wonder.


End file.
